


Carjacking

by annamatopia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-23 18:33:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1575365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annamatopia/pseuds/annamatopia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There’s no one in the parking lot when I slip out of the alley—just a couple cars.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carjacking

There’s no one in the parking lot when I slip out of the alley—just a couple cars. Perfect for a getaway, and a sweet ride’s waiting… A black ’67 Chevy Impala. It’s in pristine condition, and looks like something carjackers like me only ever dream of lifting. I insert a wire coat hanger into the door and voila! Open and prime for the taking.

The stench hits me the instant I stick my head in. Sweat. Blood. Unidentified bodily fluids. Ick. My opinion of classic cars plummets, but I slide into the front seat anyway. Just to check, y’know?

The back seat is littered with empty take-out boxes and fast food bags. A miscellaneous-colored duffel bag sits on the seat, a shovel sticking out the top. So, these people are slobs. So what? I can clean it out later. But then I glance down at the seat beside me. The little jar of liquid seems innocuous enough, but when I pick it up, the liquid sticks to the side of the jar. It’s thicker than any juice but not thick enough to be a sauce, and it’s bright red. Chills crawl up my spine. What kind of creeps keep blood in the front seat?

I drop the jar. Maybe it would be best to pick another car, one that doesn’t have freaky stuff inside. I hope.

“Hey! The hell are you doin’ in my car?” a voice shouts. I peer into the rearview mirror. Two guys are charging into the parking lot from who-knows-where—two huge guys. The one wearing the MacGyver jacket looks like he wants to kill something, while the giant in the hoodie just looks amused. I step out of the car.

“Look guys, it’s just a bit of a mistake,” I say, hands in the air, and then the guys are right there and I get a face full of water.

“At least he’s not a demonic carjacker,” Sasquatch says mildly.

I sputter out a mouthful of truly foul-tasting water.

Macgyver looks furious. “If you hurt my baby, I swear to God I will kick your—“

“Not a scratch, I promise!” My protest sounds embarrassingly close to a squeak. I swallow down some heartburn and rub my palms together. “Forgive and forget, huh?”

Macgyver opens his mouth, probably to cuss me out or something, but Sasquatch interrupts, “Dean. We need to go. Crazy witch won’t gank herself.” With that, he grins at me and squeezes into the front passenger seat.

“Dean” opens his mouth, but I back away and he slides into the open driver’s side instead. “I’m watchin’ you, kid,” he growls, and then they’re pulling out of the lot so fast I barely see the car.

Yeah right, I think. Just a couple of creeps with shovels and blood in their car. No big deal.

At the bar later, I recount the episode to George and Trudy, who both crack up laughing. “Should’ve taken off while you could,” Trudy says, poking her finger in my face and breathing her pot-breath all up my nose.

I roll my eyes and consider telling them about the blood-in-jar in the front seat, but then the television set across the room flashes two familiar faces on the screen. I inch closer and try not to stare too hard.

“Folks, it’s time to keep an eye out. Serial killer Dean Winchester and his brother Sam held up a bank downtown today. SWAT surrounded the building, but the Winchesters managed to take out the entire team… Unfortunately, one woman was killed inside.” The newscaster looks as sick as I feel even as he reads from his script. “More information coming in just a moment, but for the time being, please consider the Winchesters armed and dangerous. If you see them, do not approach, and call the number at the bottom of your screen…”

I swallow down bile with a shot of whiskey and don’t leave the bar until closing.


End file.
